


The Dolma’s Disguise

by Linorien



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Camelot Remix Eligable, Crack, Gen, Humor, disguises, no beta we die like Morgana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/pseuds/Linorien
Summary: Arthur has turned to the Dolma for help defeating Morgana, but all this travel is hard on her old bones. Surely she can't be blamed for casting a spell to change her body so she is younger...a difference gender...so she looks exactly like Merlin?Merlin can't believe he got himself into this situation and Mordred can't stop egging him on.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 111





	The Dolma’s Disguise

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fic with the Dolma and I guess this is what we got.

Merlin wasn’t sure how he got himself into this mess. Well, okay. It was entirely because he didn’t want to admit to his friends that he had magic. And because of that, Arthur had the idea that he was terrified of magic. 

So when Arthur had tracked down Morgana and had assembled some knights to kill her once and for all, he had told Merlin to take a week off. 

“Go visit Hunith,” he had said. “You deserve a week off. It's been crazy around here lately and I haven’t properly said thank you for helping me realise Guinevere was lost.”

And while normally he might protest, he also felt he deserved it. Merlin had been looking forward to a week in Ealdor when Mordred found him. 

“Arthur is planning on asking the Dolma for help killing Morgana.”

For a moment, Merlin had just stared at him. “What?”

“He found where Morgana has been living and I think he’s more angry than he lets on that she was able to get so close to the queen. So he means to kill her and wants to ask your alter ego to help.”

“Great. Just great.”

Merlin had shoved aside his lingering distrust of Mordred and asked the druid to help him brew the antidote potion while Merlin stole some clothes from the laundry. He didn’t know what Gaius had given him last time but it was barely a dress. He’d taken a better fitting one from the servant’s laundry instead and actually made sure it would fit before he left. 

“Steal other shoes as well,” Mordred had added. “I can’t believe Arthur didn’t realise it was you by your boots alone.”

“My boots keep me warm. I’m not giving them up.”

“Then throw an illusion charm on them at the very least. If you’re going to try to keep this secret, actually put effort into it.”

“I do put effort into it,” he’d protested. “It’s not my fault Arthur’s oblivious.”

“But Gwaine is not. And neither is Leon.”

Blast. “I’ll practice an illusion spell tonight.”

Packing an extra cloak and as well, he’d ridden out of Camelot just before the knights did. 

It had been a race to beat the knights to the cauldron since he was taking the longer route. He’d used his magic to illuminate the forest in the evening and hoped that by travelling later he would make up for the extra road. 

He’d just finished making sure his horse would have plenty of food when he heard the sound of the knights. He had quickly stripped to his underclothes and stuffed them in his bag, pulling out the dress instead. He’d drawn on the power stored in the lake to cast his disguise spell. 

So here he was, acting like a saucy elderly sorceress, wearing a dress with gravy stains that fit slightly better than the previous one, and lying to his friend’s faces. He was sadly used to it by now. What he hadn’t considered was how hard it was to ignore Gwaine.

Gwaine knew that Merlin had magic. But he didn’t know how much magic Merlin had. He’d just seen Merlin throwing some plates and removing a stain from Arthur’s white shirt. And they didn’t talk about it much. It was like a griffin in the room after any skirmish in the forest. Merlin trusted Gwaine, sure, but he also was wary of the man’s propensity for drink. Not to mention, even if they were on speaking terms about his magic, Merlin did  _ not _ want the knight teasing him about being an old woman. He would be insufferable. So he could not joke with him. And he would have to work really hard to not let his guard down. 

“You know where the priestess is?” Merlin asked. 

“We believe she has been hiding out in a ruined castle two days ride from here,” Arthur replied. “We also suspect it is protected by magic.”

Ah. That was why Arthur was asking for help from a sorceress. “And so you’ve come to me for help. I’m honoured you would pick little old me.” He put his hands on his hips. “What makes you think I will help you?”

Arthur was about to blurt out something when Leon stepped forward. “You cured our queen from Morgana’s control so we assume you are not a supporter of Morgana. Her,” Leon paused for the right word, “policies tend to be polarizing. We assumed that you were not a supporter of her methods.”

An accurate assessment. Trust Leon to have summed it up so succinctly.

“And what do I get in return? If I’m coming with you to try to kill a high priestess, I expect a richer reward than last time.” He was curious how Arthur would reply. When ‘The Dolma’ had healed Gwen, the payment had been a terrible dress and a promise that Arthur would remember it was actually magic that saved Gwen. He’d remembered, that was for sure, and now he was eager to use magic again. 

“ _ What are you actually hoping he’s going to say, Emrys?” _ Mordred asked in his mind. 

Not breaking eye contact with Arthur, he replied in kind. “ _ I hope he’s going to surprise me, but after all this time, Mordred, I’m no longer sure. He might just say two dresses.” _

“Lady Dolma,” Arthur began quite humbly and Merlin had to remind himself to preen like he enjoyed the honorific rather than letting his shock show. “I have done as you asked and remembered that your magic saved my queen. And it caused me to remember that it was not the only time I have turned to magic. And I suspect there have been times when some mysterious magic has helped me, though I am undeserving of its help. If this venture is successful, if Morgana will plague our kingdom no longer, then I make this promise to you, my knights as my witness: I will relax the laws on magic in Camelot. It will take time, but I will make it a priority.”

Merlin’s jaw actually dropped open. “You would do that?” he whispered. How had he missed this? Had he really been so distracted lately that he didn’t notice Arthur considering this? Did Arthur really think Merlin was so frightened of magic that he didn’t even ask for his opinion like he did for everything else?

“If you can help us defeat Morgana, yes.”

Goddess help he he would see this through and hold Arthur to that promise. He gave a clumsy half bow, half curtsey. “Then I will do all in my power to see this is done, great king. When do we leave?”

Arthur looked sideways at Leon then back at Merlin. “Are there any things you need to gather? It will take a few days to reach there.”

Merlin patted the bag he had slung over one shoulder. “I have read the winds of the world and they told me a journey was approaching.”

He hobbled out of the basin, leaning heavily on Leon’s arm. Already he was cursing these old bones and his joints that creaked with every step. He was naturally clumsy anyway and changing his body did nothing to help that. And his quick reflexes had dulled to next to nothing. It was frustrating. He was, however, grateful that he had merely placed an illusion on his sturdy boots. 

He was winded by the time they made it to the horses. He groaned, seeing the horse they had brought along for him. It was Gwen’s horse. The horse was gentle and followed orders, but it was tall. Normally it would not have been such an issue for him, but Leon had to lift him onto the horse. 

The utter indignity. “ _ Mordred, if you ever tell anyone about this disguise I will make your life an utter misery.” _

_ “Understood.”  _ His amusement carried over through their mental connection. “ _ Does Gwaine know?” _

_ “He knows I have some magic, but he does not suspect how much.” _

_ “He’d been watching you. If you’re going to insist on hiding then hide well.” Mordred smiled. “Let out that inner grouch. That shouldn’t be too hard.” _

_ “I’m sure between Arthur and this ancient body it won’t be hard.” _

_ “You flirted with Arthur when you cured Gwen. Maybe flirt with Gwaine.” _

Merlin gritted his teeth. He had done that. It had been ridiculous and it helped calm him down before the big spell. He also had assumed he would never be ‘The Dolma’ again. How wrong he was. “So, handsome. You with the fetching scar on your cheek. Tell me, what brave monsters have your slain? I bet you have all the young girls asking for your hand.”

_ *** _

Merlin tossed as he slept on the ground. He could not only feel every twig and bump in the grass, but he could feel his very bones digging into other bones. This is why questing was a young man’s activity. And an activity for rich men. He hadn’t thought to bring any sort of bedroll. He even asked Mordred if he knew any spells to make the ground more comfortable, but he only laughed. 

The next day was worse. He spent much of yesterday flirting with Gwaine and occasionally Leon, until Arthur started loudly talking about anything else. Today he was silent, often closing his eyes in pain as his body was jostled back and forth on the ride. He just couldn’t find the rhythm of the horse and the soreness from yesterday was making it worse. He knew they were riding slowly for his benefit as well. 

At midday, Leon called for a break. 

“We can eat while we ride,” Arthur said. 

“We aren’t in a rush, my lord. I believe we can afford a short break.” Leon looked significantly toward Merlin. 

Merlin looked up at Arthur and it took no acting to let all of the exhaustion show in his body. Arthur’s face softened and he said they would stop in the next small clearing they came across. 

Which, thankfully wasn’t too far. Gwaine stepped to Merlin’s side to help him down. “If you swing your leg over, I’ll help you down, my lady.”

Merlin smiled crookedly. “I think you’ll have to just pull me off, sir muscles. I can barely move my legs. Surely a strong young man such as yourself can manage.” He was trying to still stay a little flirty, but he wasn’t lying about being to damn exhausted to move. 

Gwaine tried to help maneuver Merlin’s leg over, but he found that it wasn’t working. So he called Mordred over to hold the reins of the horse while he grabbed Merlin and pulled him off backwards, only barely keeping them both on their feet. 

He practically carried Merlin to the center of the clearing and gently set him down on the grass. “Thank you,” Merlin breathed out. Slowly he stretched out his legs, flexing his ankles and trying to roll his shoulders without them popping. 

“ _ Your grouch side is turning a little bit more into making the others be your servant.” _

_ “Wish it wasn’t true Mordred, but this isn’t acting.” _

A wave of horror and sympathy rushed through their connection.  _ “Really? I didn’t realise the illusion was that strong.” _

Merlin laughly weakly.  _ “This isn’t an illusion, Mordred. It’s a complete body transformation. In every single way that matters I’m a woman of eighty-odd summers. And I don’t know if the low energy is from maintaining the spell or from age.” _

_ “If your magic and body are that weak, how are you going to defeat Morgana? I know you won’t have to physically hide, but she’s powerful. You are going to need your full strength.” _

He sighed. Smiling thinly when Mordred brought him the dried meat on bread he replied,  _ “I’ll figure something out.” _

***

The afternoon was more exhausting riding and despite his old body, he fell asleep quickly. Still he rose early and poked at the small fire, trying to coax some warmth from the fire into his bones. He’d had an inkling of an idea last night, and he was still trying to convince himself that he could pull it off. It would make everything easier. 

He looked over and saw Mordred stirring.  _ “You awake?” _ he asked as quietly as mind speak allowed. 

_ “...Kinda. What is it?” _

_ “I think I have a plan. But I may need a little bit of your help.” _

_ “You have a plan? That’s great! What do you need me to do?” _

_ “I’m going to insist on some privacy to perform a spell and I need you to either convince the others to give that to me, or if not, volunteer to be the one guarding me.” _

_ “I can do that.” _

Merlin waited until he’d had some breakfast. Then he proposed his plan. “My lord. I had a thought.”

Arthur indicated for him to continue and all attention turned to him. 

“I am old and I know I am slowing you down. These old bones cannot keep up.”

He interrupted. “We can go slower. As Leon said, we are not in a hurry.”

“You are though. The longer it takes us to reach Morgana the more likely she is to hear of your mission. Or to decide to travel to Camelot in your absence. You could go my pace and not make it there in three months. This is more than I have travelled in well over twenty years.”

“So what is your plan?” Gwaine asked. “We need you.”

Merlin wiggled his shoulders a little bit, sitting up taller. “Well of course you need me. I don’t see one of you with a lick of magic ability and you certainly aren’t going to find anyone in Camelot to replace me. Any wizard with a lick of sense left your city before any of you were born and only the stupidest are still there flirting with death.” He silently apologised to Gaius. 

_ “Are you counted among the stupidest?” _

_ “We both are.” _

Arthur crossed his arms. “So what is your plan?”

Merlin leaned forward a little, knowing full well that it drew attention to his breasts. “As much as I know you will miss looking at these,” he teased, “I can use a spell to change my body and make me younger. The spell takes a not insignificant amount of magic to cast, but if I do it now I will not be tired at all when we do reach this castle.”

_ “You’re going to create another alter ego?” _ Mordred asked. 

Merlin ignored him. Instead he watched the expressions of the others. Leon was impassive as always, but Merlin hoped he could see the strategic value. Gwaine had glanced at Merlin, but was watching Arthur, studying the king. And Arthur was watching him. His gaze felt like it was burning through Merlin’s thin dress, through his old skin and bones, seeing through to just plain Merlin. He could see the uncertainly in his eyes, the discomfort with magic despite himself. 

Mordred spoke up. “Sire, she’s right. If she can change her body to make herself younger, then our chances of success are much higher.”

Of course, Arthur listened to Mordred. “You’re right. Okay, Lady Dolma. I’ll allow you to perform your spell.”

“Yes right away. Thank you ever so much for your permission to use my own magic how I see fit.” Merlin pushed himself to his feet. “I was not asking for permission, I was kindly keeping you informed so you don’t impale me when my spell works.” He patted his bag slung across his shoulder and started walking for the cover of thicker trees.

“Where are you going?” Arthur demanded. 

He paused, and turned with an imperious hand on one hip. “This lady would like some privacy to perform a body altering spell. And I’ve been told it’s unpleasant to watch.” He turned back around and continued walking. He didn’t hear anyone following but he threw up a quick trap spell behind him in case. Just to give himself some warning. 

Then, finally when he was out of eyesight, he took off the cloak and bag, pulling out the antidote potion. He was not flexible enough to take the dress off with this body so he simply downed the potion and waited. 

With a full body shiver, the disguise slipped away and he was left in his own body. He breathed a sigh of relief like he did every time he undid that spell. He still hadn’t forgotten the terror of not being able to change back and nearly being burnt alive on top of it. Shaking the memory from his mind, he stuffed the dress in his bag and pulled back on his own clothes. It felt so good to have his own body back again. Though if ever needs to use an aging spell to disguise himself ever again, he’s going to go for a six year old. He’d just have Gaius say the kid had been gifted with extraordinary powers. Although, Merlin not changed his look much since he was six. Maybe it would have to be a six year old girl. 

But that was irrelevant right now. Right now, he needed to focus on still acting like ‘The Dolma’ despite not looking or feeling like her. 

He sauntered all the way back to camp, standing taller than he’d gotten used to standing as a servant. But he was so happy to not have his back forcibly hunched that he had no intention of doing it on purpose. 

Gwaine was the first to see him. “Merlin? What are you doing here?”

“Oh is that what the boy’s name was? I just called him the gangly one.” He made a show of wiggling his arms. 

Mordred actually spoke his disbelief out loud. “You said you were going to be younger, not look like yo-that!”

Merlin looked at him sharply. Hopefully no one else figured out what he nearly blurted out. “I can’t just make myself younger, I have to look like someone I’ve seen recently. And until you came to the lake with the queen I haven’t seen anyone else in years. It would be really suspicious if there were two of the same person here.”

Arthur’s face was a storm cloud of anger and betrayal. Still he was making a valiant effort to keep his emotions in check. “Why him? Why not the queen?”

Merlin laughed. “I didn’t expect you to care so much about the boy. After all, you nearly left him with me. You would have if I had not reminded you that I had kept him as assurance. Still you made fun of him when I reminded you. I didn’t think you cared about the boy you used as a pack horse.” Oh he’d been waiting to say that. Still, he raised looked down at his legs and did a half lunge. “And the clothes are part of the spell,” he lied. “Your queen was wearing much too fine a dress to go riding in. No, this body will do nicely to not slow you down. Let’s go.”

_ “Emrys, you are mad. Absolutely mad. Do you really think you will make it out of this with your secret still hidden?” _

_ “I don’t know, Mordred. I really don’t. But I’ve been forced to play a part longer than anyone should. What’s another character? Speaking of, I’m about to embarrass myself trying to mount up in a moment. Catch me?” _

If the last two days had proven anything, it was that ‘The Dolma’ did not know how to ride. So it followed that despite changing her body, she would still not know how to ride. Which meant Merlin needed to act like he had no idea how to actually mount a horse. 

***

Today was much more fun. He loudly and frequently extolled the joys of being young again, occasionally saying he might never remove this spell. He laughed loudly at whoever was the first to demand that he dismiss that notion entirely. 

Mordred even started suggesting ways to act. Once he got over his initial shock he evidently found it just as hilarious as Merlin. He even started flirting with ‘The Dolma’ and suggesting that he would introduce her to a friend who would make her some flattering dresses.

But when they could think of no more ways to shove suspicion far away, Merlin let Gwaine steer the conversation to what they would expect when they reached their destination. 

Leon said that the castle was mostly ruins, though the keep still stood. There was a gate once, but it seems to be guarded by an invisible barrier now. There were sentries on the roof with bows and the forest did not come close enough to the gate to provide adequate cover. None of their informants had gained access so he had no more information. 

They could only make a rough plan. But they knew they would try to sneak in after midnight. Before the guard change. It would be up to Merlin to counter any magic. And to not let his act slip.

***

“Are we sure she isn’t just pretending to do something?” Gwaine whispered to Mordred. 

“She’s right there. Don’t break her concentration. She’s our best chance in,” he whispered back. 

Really it was a little distracting, but then again Merlin was used to it. If they’d been entirely silent he would’ve found it more suspicious. He pretended not to hear them as he coaxed the magical barrier to sink into the gound so they could step over it. He had to gently tug at the threads of the spell one layer at a time, starting from the center working out, careful not to over stretch it so it would snap. This way, even with the sensor charm worked in, Morgana would not notice them. His arms were heavy from holding them up so long. There was no way he would’ve been able to do this looking like ‘The Dolma’ and feeling that old. 

After close to an hour of standing there, Merlin let his arms drop with a heavy sigh. Gold still dancing in his vision, he turned around to the others. “I’ve lowered the barrier. Still, follow directly behind me as we cross so you don’t accidentally trip an edge.”

He walked them over the barrier and they all breathed a sigh of relief when they made it through. 

Except now they were in the castle and no clue where she was. Arthur turned to him. “Lady Dolma, is there any magic to discover where she is currently?”

“It’s been a long time since I used any spell of that nature,” he said slowly.  _ “Mordred? You always know where I am. Can you tell where she is?”  _ “And I’ll warn you any spell of that nature is always vague. And there are ways to confuse the spell if she knows someone is after her.”

_ “On the third floor.” _

“Yet for you, great king of destiny, I will try.” He stood with his feet wide and his arms outstretched. Then he cast a minor illusion spell to help the whole group avoid being spotted. His eyes flared gold. He stood normally again. “She’s on the third floor.”

They crept up the central staircase, Arthur and Gwaine leading the way. Any guard who happened to be stupid enough to cross their path was cut down and then levitated over their heads to tumble the rest of the way down the staircase. Merlin watched them fall with a gleeful smile. 

The third floor was a large open room with a single throne. Morgana was seated upon it and Merlin was pretty sure she was sleeping. Guards around the room were so tired they didn’t notice the knights arrive. 

With a barked command, Merlin pinned Morgana to the chair, his eyes blazing. Now she was awake and with a strangled yell the guards were, too. 

Not waiting for any command, Gwaine, Leon, and Mordred split off to deal with the guards. Arthur and Merlin advanced on Morgana. Merlin continued chanting another spell he’d never tried before. 

Morgana looked wildly from Merlin to Arthur. “He’s using magic!” She screamed, pointing accusatively at Merlin. 

Arthur was quick to correct, “ _ She’s _ using magic. You know Merlin is terrified of magic. I can’t help that a strange sorceress decided to change her appearance.”

For a moment Morgana stared at Merlin and he was sure she would see through the ruse. He’d been the one to reassure her when she first learned of her own magic, after all. But then she laughed instead. “Whoever you are, you’ve chosen the wrong side. You’re nothing compared to a high priestess of the Triple Goddess.”

Merlin was still chanting so Arthur spoke instead. “She’s called The Dolma and she summoned the Triple Goddess specifically to break your spell on Guinevere. Oh? You hadn’t heard?” Arthur mocked. “Her love for me was greater than any magical sway or lingering loyalty she had for you. And I will never let you touch her again.”

Morgana held out her hand to cast a spell, opened her mouth then frowned. She did it again. 

“Cat got your tongue?’ Merlin asked. “Or have you forgotten the language of magic?”

She screamed her frustration. Because that’s exactly what he had done. He’d entirely blocked her memory of any of the tongue necessary for casting spells. She could not fight back. Or, not in a controlled way. As she shouted insults and curses, the walls of the keep shook and parts of the ceiling started to fall away. He could not block her instinctual magic. 

Merlin raised his left hand and started feeding his magic into the structure of the building, fighting against her destructive power. 

“You should be fast,” he told Arthur. “Your sword through her heart should do the trick. The angrier she gets the harder it is to hold her.”

Arthur looked at him then back at Morgana. “She can’t use magic?”

“Not any controlled magic,” he said slowly, not knowing where Arthur was going. “I’m fighting the other magic now.”

He walked to a dead guard and took his sword. “Release your hold on her.”

Merlin understood. He lowered his right hand and Morgana immediately threw herself out of her throne. Arthur tossed her the sword. “Fight me like we used to. Even terms.”

Merlin knew Morgana was highly skilled with the blade, but ‘The Dolma’ wouldn’t know that. “I didn’t bring you here to toy with your food! She can’t use a sword like a knight.” As she caught the blade he felt her magic fade and he was able to repair the building moving small bricks around so it would stand on its own when he left. 

“Silly witch, I am more than just a high priestess. I’ve bested my brother many times with blade alone.” They circled each other slowly. 

Merlin tried not to roll his eyes. He shouted, “You didn’t say you were related! Have you tried just talking out your differences?” Looking around the room, his left hand still channelling the restorative magic to the keep, he checked on the others. 

Collectively, the knights has dispatched the guards which had been upstairs, but between the fighting and the shaking of the building, other guards and sorcerers had started to flood into the room. 

_ “Need some magic back up, Emrys.”  _ Mordred said in his head at the same time as he shouted, “Dolma! We need your help!” for the benefit of the others. 

“ _ On it.” _ He turned around, stalking toward the stairs where the knights were. “Your shiny sticks aren’t doing much good, are they?” 

He swung his left hand down to direct his magic through the floor of the chambers and began casting additional spells with his right. Shields spells around each knight to help slow enemy blades, a spell to dull any blade that passed through the doorway, and one to throw the sorcerer aiming at Gwaine. 

Then it was fireballs and turning feet to solid ice; his eyes didn’t stop glowing. And on top of that he kept an eye on Arthur and Morgana. As ever, they were very evenly matched. 

More guards kept coming and the knights were getting tired. So was Merlin. His control on his repair spell had slipped and his over eager magic was working on repairing any damage that had been done over the past century. When Gwaine slipped on the wet floor and nearly lost an arm, Merlin decided he would just end it. Arthur and Morgana would fight with each other for hours if no one stopped them. 

Whipping both palms toward Morgana he shouted a spell. Time slowed and he carefully directed a bolt of pure magic straight through her heart, yanking the sword up to stick in the ceiling with a flick of his eyes. She started to fall to the ground. Time crashed back to normal speed and Arthur stumbled. 

“This is foolish. One stab, in the heart. And then she’ll be dead and destiny can continue forward, great king.”

To his great relief, Arthur did. A clean stab right in the chest. Merlin could feel her spells in the castle snap. She was dead. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

Arthur pulled out his sword and held it at Merlin’s neck. Despite the sheen of sweat, his arm was steady. “Change back.”

Bugger. “In good time. One should not rush difficult spells when one is tired.”

“I don’t want to see you wearing Merlin’s face any more than absolutely necessary and our mission here is done,” Arthur growled. He had that fire in his eyes that meant he was really a hairs breadth away from proving that he is absolutely Uther’s son. And Excalibur was dangerously close to his own neck. He had no doubt that Arthur would barely hesitate to kill ‘The Dolma’ for looking like Merlin now that Morgana was dead. 

Mordred was suddenly next to them. “Arthur, give her a few minutes to catch her breath.”

“No.”

Merlin shrugged. “Fine. No thanks, just more demands,” he muttered. “If the castle collapses around you, the fault lies at your feet.” Just to placate Arthur, he cast the spell. As he did, he felt the last of his energy being used up and his vision started fading to black. He hoped Mordred would come up with a good reason why the spell didn’t change his clothes into a dress like he’d lied about earlier..

***

When Merlin woke he was alone on the floor. He reached out and brushed against Mordred’s mind, asking what was going on. Mordred explained that they had taken the bedrooms to sleep in on shifts. Arthur forbid anyone from touching ‘The Dolma’ and left Merlin where he was out of ingrained respect for the fairer sex. “ _ I’m currently guarding the door to the third floor though. Arthur does not trust you right now.” _

_ “Of course not. I only did all the work for him as usual. I do need your help to change back into that dumb dress. This stupid body is not flexible enough.” _

Mordred silently crept into the room.  _ “I told Arthur you were so exhausted you passed out before the second part of the spell could complete. I really need to teach you more illusion spells. Oh and don’t forget about your boots.” _

_ Merlin shrugged. “It would’ve faded when I passed out anyway.” _ He looked sadly at his tunic, torn where breasts had suddenly grown. It would need repairs before he could wear it again. 

They travelled back slowly to the cauldron, not speaking much. It was a slower journey, but no less painful for Merlin. At last, they made it back to the cauldron. Mordred helped him dismount. 

Wrapping his fake personality around him, he cheerfully said farewell. “You’ve proven that Camelot does indeed have a future. And you, great king, will led them to a prosperous one.”

“We could not have done it without you, Lady Dolma,” Leon said. 

He preened as much as he could through the pain. “Oh, Thank you, Sir Knight.” He brushed his hair behind his ear like he’d seen the kitchen girls do. “You do know how to flatter an old woman like myself.”

“He’d right,” Arthur said. “Thank you. And I won’t forget my promise. Are you sure I cannot convince you to come to Camelot? You should be honoured for your assistance.”

Again Merlin smiled gently, preening in the praise. “You are too kind, but no. It is time for the next generation to shine. I ask only that when the law is changed, you all remember that it is life changing for some people. Many secrets will come to light and it will take much courage to do so. How you react will be what truly shapes your future.” As Arthur turned his horse to leave, Merlin called out. “Could I ask one small favour? Your young Sir Mordred. Could he walk me back down to the water? I’m still a little unsteady after the long ride and I’m sure he can catch up with you.”

Mordred was already dismounting before anyone else could say anything. “Of course. It’s the least I can do. I’ll be right behind you, sire.”

Merlin hobbled, leaning heavily on Mordred. They both kept glancing over their shoulder but the damn basin was wide and shallow. Until they got behind the large rocks at the water’s edge there would still be the chance of the others seeing them. 

But after what felt like ages, they made it. Merlin pulled out the potion and tossed the cork, downing it as fast as he could. His body rippled back to normal and he flopped down on the ground. Changing clothes could wait. He reached his hand out and laid it in the water, feeling the well of pure magic and letting it fill him up.

Mordred sat down next to him. “You’re going to tell him soon, yes?”

“Yes. I am not doing this again.”

“Good. Because this trip has been entirely too weird.”

“You’re telling me.”


End file.
